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crush

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peter parker x f!reader

summary: spider-man hangs out with his crush all the time but this time it's different

warnings: swearing??

peter has been crushing over y/n for a very long time to the point where it's not even just a crush anymore, he's full on in love but he could never have the courage to tell her

luckily, he still gets to be with her, through spider-man.

nobody really remembers how it happened, it just did and for some reason y/n and spider-man are friends now. she's never really told anyone cause she's not that type of person. besides, he was just a normal person

she obviously doesn't know it's peter and he plans on it staying that way, spider-man was like his safety net. if they ever get into a fight, there's spider-man, if something's up with her, there's spider-man, anything that happens, spider-man knows about it

for once, peter was at a party and everyone was called to gather around in a circle. they decided to play spin the bottle, which made peter extremely nervous since y/n was part of the circle

once it was y/n's turn she span the bottle and of course, it had to land on peter. she wanted to lean in until she noticed how peter was frozen and clearly did not want to be kissed

"if peter doesn't want a kiss i'd like to volunteer instead of him" some guy said annoyingly

peter simply got up and left, y/n wasn't gonna let him ruin her day so she got the other guy and kissed him, making everyone laugh at how the guy was so happy

after the party was over, y/n went home and headed upstairs, to the roof. it's usually where she waits for spider-man to show up so they can talk and hang out

as usual, spider-man swung by when patrol was over.

"hey" he said, stuttering in the beginning since it felt awkward to talk after what happened

she didn't answer though

"what's up, talk to me" he said

she looked down, she looked pissed off and sad at the same time

"there's this guy, i don't know what his problem is- i mean, i was at this party today and we were playing spin the bottle, alright? so i spin the bottle and it lands on him and instead of kissing me like a normal person does he just- left! who does that? i don't get it! is- is it me? am i just that type of person that nobody wants to deal with? he always avoids me and it's just- it's me isn't it." she said

"what?" he said, shocked. he never realized how much he affected her with his actions

"i...i mean he probably doesn't mean it that way, right? maybe he just gets nervous around you cause you're so pretty and sweet and literally my dream girl and i would never hurt you i was just scared cause i've loved you for years and i don't know how to tell you-"

her head perked up in shock

"what? are-are you- oh my god, peter is spider-man?! all those things i said- oh my god this is so- you probably think i'm such a weirdo this is so embarrassing-"

peter stood there just staring at the girl who was spiraling. once she stopped talking and looked at him, he burst into laughter.

"what- why are you laughing?!"

"cause you're crazy! i tell you that i've been in love with you for years and all you care about is what i think of you cause you act like your weird normal self around me?"

"cause- i don't know what if you stop feeling the same way and i would be in love with someone who doesn't love me back-"

"did you just say you love me?"

"maybe..."

peter then used his webs on her and pulled her to his chest

"say it" he said

the girl smiled shyly in looked down

"please?"

she looked up and smiled

"i love you" she whispered

"again?"

"i love you"

"one more time, please?"

"i love you, peter."

"yeah that's it" he said, chuckling as the two shared a kiss

a/n: requests are open babes so don't be shy cause i have no ideas anymore help

I LOVE THIS 😍😍😍😍

Love (Sweet Love)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter makes sure, everyday, he shows you how much he loves you.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, suggestive, swearing, cute boyfriend!Peter.

A/N: In honor of Little Mix's song Love (Sweet Love) coming out yesterday, I decided to write this fic. Yes I know this song is about showing yourself love, but the title fit this fic so leave me alone :). Enjoy!

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"Aww Peter you didn't!" You squeal when you see your boyfriend at your door holding a bag of your favorite food from Chick-fil-A. He smiled then entered your house, as he did he engulfed you in a big hug. He made sure to kiss your forehead before walking over to the table and getting your food out.

You had texted Peter about an hour ago saying you were hungry and probably going to make some soup for lunch. Him being the awesome boyfriend he is, he went to your favorite place to eat and grabbed some food for you.

"I told you I was going to make something. You didn't have to do this." You walk behind him and wrap your arms around his torso and placed your chin on his shoulder.

"I was not about to let you eat soup for lunch. You don't even like soup." He says chuckling.

"But-"

"No buts, I love you and care about you, so that's why I did this." He explains turning around in your arms. He pulls you into another hug before you guys dig in.

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You had just gotten home from school. Peter was already at your house, your guessing your mom let him in. As you walk in you throw your bag on the ground, extremely hard. Peter hears this and jerks his head that way. You walk to the kitchen and open the fridge, really hard.

Peter walked to the kitchen and saw you leaning on the counter, sipping from a coke, and looking angry.

"What's wrong, Princess?" He asks cautiously walking over to you.

"Nothing" you mumble out not even looking his direction.

"Well obviously something is wrong" Peter gets closer and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"Talk to me" you look into his eyes and see he genuinely wants to know what's wrong.

"Mary Jane" you groan.

"What about her?" Peter tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear with his free hand.

"I heard her and a few other girls in the bathroom talking about me....and you" You explain looking down at your feet.

"Well what were they saying?" Peter asks

"They we're saying that 'You're to good for me' and 'A unattractive, dumb, whore', like me doesn't deserve you." Tears start forming in your eyes. Peter feels anger bubbling up inside him. How could those girls say something like that? You're not unattractive, you're gorgeous. In fact you're hotter than Mary Jane. You're not dumb either, you're top of your class, and your sure as hell not a whore. The point is you're perfect, in Peter's eyes at least.

"Hey baby look at me" Peter says lifting your chin with his finger. Your teary eyes meet his soft loving ones.

"You are gorgeous, and smart, and just perfect. If anyone ever says otherwise they're dumb assholes. I love you and nothing can change that, okay?" He says. You smile and nod.

It didn't take long for Peter to cup your cheek and pull you into a passionate, love filled, kiss.

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"Where are we going, Peter?" You ask. Your boyfriend is covering your eyes and guiding you to a surprise he had for you.

"Almost there.....okay now keep your eyes closed until I say so okay?" He directs. You nod and giggle a little. He removes his hands from your eyes and walks off somewhere.

"Alright open your eyes"

You open your eyes and see your boyfriend standing on a dock, decorated with fairy lights. In the corner of the dock you see a little bluetooth speaker. In the middle, Peter is holding out his hand signaling for you to join.

"Peter...this is beautiful" you gush walking over and taking his hand.

"Not as beautiful as you" he replies, cute smile plastered on his face.

He pulls you closer and rest his free hand on your waist. Your free hand falls to his shoulder. Peter let's go of your waist to grab his phone from his pocket and start the music. His hand goes back to your waist and you start swaying to the music. Peter put on "Say you won't let go" by James Arthur. Your heads rest against each other as you peacefully dance on the dock.

"I'm so in love with you, and I hope you know. Darling your love is more than worths it's weight in gold" Peter sings, looking into your eyes and smiling.

He presses a soft kiss to your lips then keeps dancing.

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You were sitting in the cafeteria with your friends Peter, Ned, and Gwen. Peter has his arm around your shoulder and you're sipping on a Capri sun.

"You guys are so cute, but I have a question?" Gwen states.

"Shoot" Peter says taking a bite of his pizza.

"Have you guys fucked yet?" She asks nonchalantly. Peter chokes on his Pizza and you pat his back to help him out.

"I'm sorry?" You ask

"Have you two had sex yet" Ned elaborates.

"Well....yeah but....once" Peter says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why only once?" Gwen questions.

"Well because I respect Y/N and if she doesn't want to we don't have to."

"I never said I didn't want to" you mumble looking at your food. Peter looks down at you but doesn't say anything.

"Oh that's understandable then, I wish someone loved me like Peter lives you Y/N/N" Gwen gushes.

Peter erases his dirty thoughts and smiles. He kisses your temple then goes back to eating.

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Finally. The day everyone at your school has been waiting for. Graduation. You were so excited. You'd finally be out of school, that is until college, but that is going to be different from this hell hole.

The actual ceremony took way too long, but in the end it was worth it. You got to sit next to Peter and Gwen so it wasn't too bad.

As usual when they announced that the class of 2025 had graduated, you and the rest of the graduates, threw your caps in the air. You laughed and hugged Gwen. You turned around to hug Peter, but you didn't see him at first.

You looked down to see Peter on one knee and holding a box with a ring in it. You feel tears start to fill your eyes. Peter is smiling and took your hand in his free one.

"I love you Y/N. Will you marry me?" Peter asks, nervous look on his face.

"Yes, yes, yes!" You gush. He quickly got up and hugged you. He picked you up a little and spun you around.

Everyone was clapping and cheering. You didn't see but, Gwen was behind you taking pictures.

Peter is amazing, he completes you. Words can't describe how much love, sweet love, you have for him.

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©️ spideymix 2021

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

Everyone was being so protective of me. I loved this lmao 😭🖐️

Webs of Opacity

Summary: On the eve of the annual Stark Halloween party, you’ve managed to gulp down too much alcohol and tangled yourself into intricate webs of trouble. Even glittering fairies can’t escape the drama, and handsome 80’s film characters can’t always save them from sleazy boyfriends and hangovers.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!reader (adopted, of course), Steve Rogers x sister!reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 6k

Warnings: underage drinking, reader being very drunk, unconsented kissing, mild violence

A/N: This is a mess, I’m sorry. Started this last fall and rushed to get it done in time for this year. Also happy Halloween and over a week of Midnights being out. Couldn’t help myself from referencing it every other paragraph lol

Also if anyone has any scenarios or requests for my college series please please send them to me! Love your enthusiasm for my Stark U babies and want to keep writing for them

Masterlist

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Your shiny, entirely fake wings keep bumping into the ridiculous amount of people crammed into this room, and you're sure you have never apologized more times in your life than tonight. Wanda has assured you many times that, no, you should not take off your wings because you look, in her words, adorable. It was her idea, after all, to dress you up like a little flowery fairy for the Halloween party Tony has thrown tonight. She made your wings all fluttery and glittery, and the flowers in your hair sparkle every now and then. It feels like a childhood dream coming true.

"Spider-boy!" you call out over the loud music, jumping as you stretch your hand up in the air to alert the young man twenty feet away.

For a "quiet gathering" there sure are a lot of loud, drunk people here. Then again, it was your mistake to trust the promise of Stark when it came to a party.

Your jumping up and down is entirely unnecessary when you're trying to gain the attention of someone with a creepy sixth sense that allows them to just know everything happening around them. Peter already knew exactly where you were the moment you opened your mouth. It doesn't help that you're just a tiny, little bit of tipsy either.

He smiles a toothy grin as he pushes past the crowd towards you, showing glimpses of his Indiana Jones costume that's honestly a slightly surprising choice. He looks handsome though.

"Hi, Y/n!" he nearly shouts over the music, embracing you in a side hug as he takes a look at your outfit. "You're a fairy! It fits you so great, it's like you were meant to be one,” Peter exclaims happily while you chuckle lightheartedly.

"Thank you, it was Wanda's idea. Indiana Jones, huh?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in question. It's quite uncharacteristic. Last year he went as Nikola Tesla and nobody knew who he was supposed to be.

"Yeah, Tony said I had to go as something cooler this year. He'd disown me otherwise." Peter cringes while your head is thrown back in laughter.

"He told me I looked like a moth earlier," you answer with a grin on your lips, the remnants of your chuckles fading out.

"You look great, Y/n. Very sweet. Think Bucky's gonna get here any second and tell me to keep any 'punks' away from you," Peter tells you. You roll your eyes, though fondly.

"Hm, I bet he will," you hum. "Gotta send him back soon if he keeps that up. Both of them, for that sake."

You nod your head towards the blonde head sticking up in the bar crowd. Your brother is an overbearing mess that you would much rather let you be, instead of hovering protectively around your presence constantly. He seems to have eased up on his duties tonight, though, in honor of the holiday.

"I think it's good that—you know—they look out for you. There are a lot of bad guys out there," Peter says, scratching his head nervously like it would somehow offend you.

"Yeah, that's understandable. Though Steve and Bucky seem to think I'm still a kid." You scrunch your nose fondly.

"Well, you are. Kind of," Peter says. Your mouth hangs agape jokingly, with a silent scoff in answer.

"Oh, that's where we're going! You're only two years older, asshole," you say with a glare, taking a sip from the drink in your hand.

"Those two years make a world of difference." He smiles with a glint in his eyes. "Head off to college and then they'll see you as an adult, maybe."

"I'm going in January—stop looking at me like that!" you yell when he smirks, holding back a laugh. "I'm serious! Alright, okay, we're not playing nice tonight, are we?" You raise an eyebrow in question.

"Sure," he smiles. It falters just as quickly when you snatch the red solo cup out of his hand, gulping down the sweet and bitter liquid before crumpling the cup in your hands. "Hey!" Peter shouts. "You're not 21!"

"Neither are you." A victorious smile adorns your lips. You try not to show the distaste from the bitter liquid burning in your throat.

"In a few months!" Peter blushes and you fight the urge to coo at him because he gets shy over the most peculiar things.

"You're so cute, Parker," you tell him with a bop to his nose.

"Oh, piss off," he says and shakes his head.

"Learnt a new swear word? Impressive. College has really changed you."

"You're really annoying right know, you know that?"

You shake your head frantically, scrunching your nose simultaneously, and there's something different about you that Peter just noticed now.

"You're already drunk, aren't you?" he asks with realization dawning upon him. You gaze up at him with a mischievous glint and a gasp escapes him. "Y/n, Steve's gonna freak out on you!"

"He's never gonna find out. And I'm not drunk. I had three drinks earlier, 's fine," you say with a dismissive wave.

"Three drinks?" he breathes out in disbelief. "That's not little—hey! Hands off, asshole!" Peter interrupts the beginning of his speech to scare away the twenty-something with his hands on your hips.

"Dickhead," the guy mutters under his breath as he backs away. You turn around to meet Peter's eyes with a pout as the guy saunters off, a disappointed frown in between your brows.

"That guy was hot. You scared him away. You ruined my only chance," you pout.

You turn around again before Peter has the chance to answer, roaming your eyes around for the guy. With only a few seconds he's managed to land himself over by the bar, drink raised to his lips as he eyes you hungrily despite Peter's warnings. You smile, biting your lip with a newfound confidence you've never experienced. Yeah, definitely tipsy. Sober you would be hiding away in the cleaning closet by now.

"Well, yeah, he was—Y/n, hello?" Peter lays his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to meet his eyes again. "You know what? We're gonna go for a walk." He lays an arm around your shoulders, gently steering you away from the guy and into the crowd.

"Oh, where?" you ask, already forgotten the source of your previous pout. "Careful of my wings, Parker."

"It's a surprise," Peter says as he loosens his hold around your wings, glancing to see if they're alright. You stop talking almost instantly and for once he's happy to know some silence from you, because right now you can't seem to shut up and he's not used to spending time with your chipper-talkative version.

Peter pushes the two of you through the thick, sweaty crowd filled with lazy costumes and masterpieces alike, ranging from several layers thick to barely covering anything at all. He recognizes some of the people from the compound, some from his college that he doesn't even know how they got here, but most of them are complete strangers.

You send flirty glances and hellos over your shoulder to every guy you gain eye contact with. It's scary how fast the alcohol went to your brain, from being completely unnoticeable to half-drunk in a minute. Peter does not like the drunk you. Or he does, maybe, but not in a room filled with guys who just can't wait to get under your ridiculously cute dress. It's offensive really, how you can manage to look so excruciatingly innocent and hot at the same time. He'll curse out Wanda tomorrow.

The party is so packed with people that it takes ten minutes before he finds the ones he's looking for. Wanda and Natasha sip on their martinis in a ridiculously large couch, gossiping like a bunch of school girls as they shout encouragements at Sam and Tony on the dance floor. Peter sighs, nearly pushing you down on the couch next to Natasha before he slouches down himself.

"What do we have here, huh?" Natasha smirks and takes a small sip of her drink.

"She's drunk. I'm exhausted. Please take her off my hands," Peter says as he throws his head back on the couch. You let out a giggle, leaning against Natasha's shoulder.

"He's exaggerating," you say with your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Okay, young lady. Drunk, huh?" Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow in question. Her perfectly red lips curl into a smile that shows she's not really upset about it.

"No," you mumble, scratching your nose with your manicured finger for the occasion. "Hiya, Auntie," you coo while curling up besides Natasha.

"Stop calling me Auntie," she mutters and gently pushes you off her shoulder.

"How's your boyfriend? Jake? No, John. Wait! Jack!" you fumble over your words. It might as well be any of the three names, because Natasha has been showing up with a new person on her arm every other month this year. You don't know what it is, really, but you guess you should be glad she's exploring her options.

"Jason," Natasha says through a roll of her eyes. The slightest hint of amusement can be found on her lips, but it's nothing that she shows to someone else. "And he's very much good, now stop asking. He's just getting drinks," she says and nods towards the bar.

"I like that guy," you exclaim excitedly. There's no doubt about your drunken state in this moment, because in no shape or form have you been as wounded up about any of Natasha's past partners.

"Hey, honey," Wanda catches your attention with a gentle hand on your arm, reaching across the sofa. "Where's your brother hiding? I can't imagine he would be very happy with you being drunk, no?" she asks.

"He can't know!" you exclaim with a whispered shout. "He's gonna kill me, please, Wanda."

Your eyes are blown wide open in fear. It's not that Steve would be mad—the disappointment is what you desperately want to evade. He gets that frown in between his eyebrows, puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head while looking down to the ground. Being on the receiving side of that is humiliating, on the verge of heartbreaking. You can't handle that tonight.

"I don't know, sweetheart..."

"Please, Wanda." There's tears gathering in your eyes, more so for dramatic effect than actual upset. You've slid down onto your knees in front of her, begging with your hands on her thighs.

"Oh god," Natasha mutters under her breath, setting down her drink on the table while indifferently glancing over to the bar where her boyfriend of the month resides.

She can't really handle this theatric version of you. There's a reason you're usually one of her favorites, despite your young age—your ability to be fucking quiet. Whoever gave you all that alcohol is on her damn hit list.

While she tunes out the conversation behind her, some kind of settlement is agreed upon where you, of course, get your way. No more alcohol, and Wanda won't tell your brother or Bucky what you have been up to.

When she stands up to leave, you're on your feet again. Now your attention has wandered over to Peter's costume, talking of how 'incredibly accurate to detail' it is despite being thrown together last minute by the college student. The only thing telling what he's dressed as is the hat paired with the old leather jacket.

A wet kiss is pressed to Natasha's cheek as soon as she joins Jason by the bar. His hand instantly finds her waist, pressing her into him tightly. His touch almost repulses her. He's too straightforward with his affection, so obvious in his quest to show her off.

"You look so goddamn sexy," he whispers into her ear. "Been thinking about what we talked about the other day."

Nat hums absentmindedly in answer, raising a finger swiftly to wave over the bartender.

"You know, having another p—"

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about," she interrupts him.

He brought it up about a week ago, and she only entertained the idea because she was bored. Jason is only a temporary occupation for her constant need to destress—there's no way in hell she's gonna adhere to his fantasy of having two girls sucking him off at the same time.

"She's not your real niece, no?" Jason asks suddenly, setting his gaze on your soft curves in that angelic dress framing your figure on the other side of the room.

Natasha's attention snaps from her drink to where his eyes are set. "You know she's not," she mutters as she takes a sip on her martini, suspiciously eyeing her boyfriend.

"I'm up for it," he says, nodding your way.

"Excuse me?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, gracefully setting down her glass on the counter.

"She's our girl, I have a feeling she is. You can ask her, can't you?" Jason smirks as he shamelessly keeps his stare on you. "Pretty little thing like that would be up for anything, wouldn't she?"

It takes exactly two seconds for Natasha to have a sharp fork pressed against Jason's side, just above one of his major arteries and restricting his breathing. A choked gurgle escapes his lips as Natasha's mouth lingers next to his ear.

"I know 72 different ways to break every bone in your body, and I can make 65 of them seem like an accident." Her smooth voice fills his ear. "Keep her name out of your mouth."

She keeps the fork pressed into his skin for a few seconds, just for extra measure, before she lets it go and Jason coughs violently as his hand flies up to his throat. Natasha takes another sip of her drink, glancing over the unsuspecting crowd with a roll of her eyes.

"I suggest you leave. Go clean up in the bathroom, you have a stain on your shirt," Natasha says before taking her drink and walking away.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You squeeze yourself through the thick bathroom line, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible. You gave up on preserving your wings two drinks ago, because quite frankly you have forgotten them by now.

You might also have ignored your fellow elders' warnings of laying off the alcohol, choosing to indulge in whatever drink you could get your hands on for one evening only. It's a risky move, but it's something you can afford. You rarely stir up any trouble, if any at all. What fun is it if you remain predictable all the time?

The music blares through the floor, thumping along with the people jumping up and down against it. You're out of it in the most wonderful way, rid of your constant presence in your own mind, if even for just a short while. The consequences do not exist and neither does your conscience.

When a guy in his late twenties, or thirties, maybe even your age, grasps a hold of your hand and asks if you want to dance, you answer yes without any hesitation. Sweaty bodies spread their heat around, pushing up against you and the mysterious guy as you move against each other.

You barely know what you're doing. You're only following along, letting him control your movements close to his body. If you were more sober you would have seen how it could be more likened to grinding than dancing, but the weight of his hands on your hips feels grounding instead of unnerving.

"You look so fucking pretty," he says into your ear, muffled by the alcohol buzzing in your head and the music blaring over the speakers.

You throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with what you think is a smile. You're trying, at least. "Thank—" Hiccup. "Thank you. You're pretty too," you say, even though you can barely make out his features in the darkness.

But you think he looks pretty. A hypothesis based on the way his hands feel on your skin. Hot may be a better word for it, but in your state of mind adjectives do not differ especially much from each other. That's why you let him drag you away from the crowd, pushing through drunk people until you find a relatively secluded corner of the floor.

The wall is cold against your heated skin, your back against it while the man's arms cage you in. The feeling of his lips trailing across your neck barely registers. It just feels nice, you think. Your eyes are fluttered close, back arching while you mumble indetectable words you can't even decipher yourself. You're so fucking drunk you won't even remember this moment in the morning.

That's the problem with you drinking tonight—your alcohol consumption has been so limited that you have no conception of whatever is much or not. You have no idea if it takes three or six drinks to get you affected. You have no idea what you are like on tequila or vodka, on Prosecco or red wine. So now, eight drinks later of so many different types you can't even remember which was which, you're out of it enough to barely remember your own name.

His wet lips against yours are a suffocating presence you would much rather be without. It's sloppy and rushed, not at all what you imagined kissing would be. You wince to yourself, pushing him away just an inch to run the back of your hand against your mouth.

And then he's suddenly gone. You could have sworn he stood right in front of you. It takes a good ten seconds before you find him on the floor, clutching his nose with an angry frown in between his eyebrows.

"What the fuck, man?!" he shouts, looking up at the guy who has a funny hat on his head and a heaving chest.

"Stay away from her," the guy seethes, suddenly taking a gentle hold of your arm.

You don't have it in you to protest. Maybe it's dangerous to follow whoever when they tell you to, but your moral compass is non-existent in this state.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" the guy asks you. You blink, staring at his face while trying to piece together his features. No words come out of your mouth. "Damnit," he sighs, shaking his head.

A woman comes up to him with rushed steps, agitated look on her face. "Is she alright, Peter?" She runs her eyes over your disheveled figure.

"She's completely out of it. Must have snuck in quite a lot of more drinks," he answers. "Your dickhead of a boyfriend is taken care of, by the way. Probably won't stir up anymore trouble now."

"I should have checked so he actually left. It was reckless to think he would leave her alone," she says with a stern face, cold gaze watching the exit.

"Wasn't your fault, Nat," Peter assures her. You sway in your stance, stumbling into his hold while he steadies his grip around you.

"She needs to lay down before she passes out. Get her a glass of water for me, will you?" Natasha commands.

Peter nods, giving you a concerned glance before reluctantly heading towards the bar. Your head comes to lean on Natasha's shoulder with a whine, letting her lead you wherever she's going. You're starting to feel dizzy and slightly nauseous, and you do not like it. If you had the energy to speak you would launch a heavy string of complaints.

"Come on now, darling. A few more steps," she says, taking on more of your weight.

Your face is buried into her shoulder. The only thing detectable from your blubbering is the whines, wordlessly pleading to take you away from wherever you are and rid you of the nausea.

Heavy glances are exchanged between Peter and Natasha as he pushes through the crowd, fingers clinging tightly onto the large glass in his hand.

"Here," he breathes out, reaching the glass towards her.

She takes it from his hands, tilting your chin up with her manicured fingers. "There you go, Y/n," she mumbles as you gulp down small sips of the liquid.

The music blares loudly throughout the large room, sweaty bodies packed tightly together. What you found exhilarating and exciting twenty minutes ago is now suffocating. It's the only thing you know as you barely stand on two feet amongst the crowd. If it weren't for Nat, you would be in a heap on the floor.

"Let's go." Natasha nods towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder as Peter trails shortly after.

You're barely awake, burrowing your face into the crook of her neck. Peter can smell the stale alcohol on your breath from where he walks just beside the two of you—fruity drinks and vodka and tequila and wine. It unnerves him to think that you might have ingested enough of the poison to make it dangerous.

The bitter night air is refreshing for anyone who's senses are at least partly alert. It's a blessing really, that tonight you only have the short walk from the party to your homes located just on the other side of the compound grounds.

The dewy grass is partially lit up by strobe lights placed along the lines of the premises, soaking Natasha's heels and Peter's loafers. Your bare arms prickle with the low temperature.

It feels like an awfully long journey for Peter as he walks along Natasha, halfway waking up enough from the haze to take on some of your weight as well. There's a thought or two of swinging you back home in just a few seconds, but there's not much for his web to hold onto out here. The anxiety creates shudders in his limbs and forces him to glance over to your figure every other second.

"She'll be fine, Peter," Natasha says without so much as sparing him a glance. "She's just drunk. It'll be over tomorrow."

But his anxiety doesn't ease, rightfully so, when your palm suddenly pushes against her chest with all the force you can muster in your state. You whine, sprawling your legs until they have no option but to release you.

"Wha—"

On your knees, bent over the small bushes meticulously trimmed by the nice gardeners, you throw your guts out with shudders wracking the whole of your body. Awful.

Natasha could have said 'I told you so', but people make dumb decisions while drunk and she already feels bad for you over what Jason did. "Oh, honey," she whispers to herself instead, taking a step forward to reach you.

But Peter's faster. Of course he is. The young man is kneeling down beside you, hand gently wrapping around your hair to pull it aside while the other rubs against your back.

Any other time, when alcohol isn't poisoning your blood, and you would have felt ashamed. You probably will be tomorrow. You would have reacted to Peter being the one to take care of you, especially after showing such irritation about your state earlier.

The grass is cold and wet against your knees, but it is a welcome relief from the heat plaguing your skin. You are almost certain there are tears making their way out of your eyes and you would positively murder someone for another glass of water.

Instead of gulping down another glass, like you want to, you close your eyes while breathing out deeply. The nausea slowly fades away with each second, the heat being replaced by dewy goosebumps on your skin, all the while clarity pushes itself past the alcohol-induced blur.

A raspy cough. A thick gulp, swallowing too much air at the same time but you force yourself to hold it in. "Did I just kiss someone?" you speak for the first time in an hour.

And Natasha nearly laughs, until she remembers the state you were in. You didn't kiss someone.

"No, Y/n," she says softly, glancing up at Peter with a hardened gaze that tells him to keep his mouth shut. "No, you didn't."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

It's dark, empty of anyone who usually resides in the living room. The lights flickered on one by one, lighting up the space too much for your liking when you stepped inside. A whine was all it took for Peter to turn them off again.

You've been discarded on the couch, legs stretched out over Nat’s thighs with a cold, wet towel laying on your face. Peter sits fiddling with his fingers just beside your head. It's quiet—thankfully—even though you feel much better than before.

"What time is it?" you ask after what must have been ten minutes of complete silence.

"It's, uh, ten past one," Peter stutters out, like he's surprised by the sound of your voice. In reality he just reacts this way each time you speak, but the circumstances have chipped on his resolve. He can't hide his shivers behind a cool facade anymore.

"Happy Halloween," you croak out, earning a quiet chuckle from him. He checks his phone to see the date on top of the screen. 31st October, indeed.

Honestly, Peter has been some kind of obsessed with you since he was sixteen and visited the compound for the first time. You and Steve were walking on the trail slinging around the grounds, deep into solemn conversation.

Peter should have been listening to the endless list of security policy Happy was lining up for him, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off of you. Not because you were beautiful—you are, but he couldn't really see your face in detail from that far away—but because there was someone else his age in the same situation as him. Then he found out you were just Steve's adopted little sister and was a bit disappointed over your lack of involvement with the Avengers.

For weeks he tried to understand why you were in this century too and if Captain America had kept you secret for a reason. Peter was too nervous to actually talk to you until Tony shut him out of some team meeting and you were the only other one in the living room. He saw you everyday after that.

But now he's living hours away at university and he hates that it feels like you're drifting apart and everything is happening without him knowing. You drinking and being interested in men and men being interested in you. He tries to keep the contact up—texts you everyday and calls you and sends messages to Steve or Bucky if you don't answer. For the things you won't tell him, the things he can't see.

He was so excited for tonight. Chose the Indiana Jones costume because Harrison Ford is cool and sexy in those movies and surely you must think that too? And damn it, when he saw you sparkle and shimmer as you walked into the room with your wings fluttering he almost fell to the ground. It was fun as long as you were sober enough to actually talk to him.

Peter's spent the last hour and a half so goddamn mad at Natasha's boyfriend. And of course he is jealous, it should have been him you were dancing with like that, but that man took advantage of your vulnerable state. You could barely stand up, let alone actually protest or give your consent. Peter doesn't know if that was your first kiss or not, but regardless he's mighty glad he knocked the guy out.

You've gone quiet again, and he almost thinks you have fallen asleep, but you peek out from under the towel when the door you all came in through is thrown open. Heavy boots clank against the floor and a frown adorns Steve Rogers', or Fred from Scooby Doo for the night, face when he and his best friend barges inside. It doesn't take long for them to catch sight of the couch occupied by a wide-eyed Peter, stoic Natasha and still kind of drunk Y/n.

"You're going to be the death of me, young lady," Steve speaks up, letting out a deep sigh once he's close enough to tower over your figure.

He got a run-through of the events by a slightly dramatic Asgardian god and an infinitely more concerned Wanda a few minutes ago. You had gotten black-out drunk and found yourself grinding against some punk in the crowd. That was forgivable, even though Steve would much rather you didn’t at this age. Then that fucking jerk shoved his tongue down your throat despite you barely being able to form words. Yeah, Jackson or Jacob or whatever his name was had a talk with Bucky before the two of them rushed over here.

With his hands on his hips and a shake of his head, Steve stands there for a second before kneeling down. Bucky has his arms crossed a few feet away like he still hasn't really decided wether he's pissed or just feels sorry for you.

"You okay, Y/n?" Steve asks you, a little softer. His palm has come to feel your forehead, even though you doubt fever is a common symptom of being hungover.

Peter is paralyzed beside him. He’s quite sure Steve knows how completely infatuated he is with you. Mostly because Peter accidentally, somehow, sent a voice message meant for Ned to Bucky. He must have shared that by now. What should I wear? Y/n is going to be there. Han Solo? Does she even like brunettes? Is she into blondes? Oh god, I’m helpless.

"No," you mutter in answer to your brother’s question. "This sucks. Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Bucky snorts. "What did you even drink? Vodka?"

"No. I don't know. In the beginning it was just some screw-top rosé Peter's roommate brought," you tell him, scrunching your nose with the memory of the taste of it. "It tasted cheap."

"Oh, because you know things like that now, do you?" Bucky says, raising his eyebrows at you. "Can tell expensive wine from cheap-ass rosé?"

"Buck," Steve says before you even have the chance to answer. Chastises, maybe. "You're not 21 yet. Who gave all that alcohol to you?"

You turn your head away, pressing it into the pillow. Steve turns you back to him with a hand to your shoulder, giving you a pointed look that holds some level of amusement. He acts like God's righteous man, but he was a troublemaker in his youth. Tony would have a field day if he knew all the times Steve came home drunk at sixteen after drinking some musty home-made brandy.

"Peter?" Steve looks up at him when you choose not to answer, using alternative, dirty methods to get answers. Cheater. Your mouth falls open, looking over at both your brother and Peter with an offended glare.

The young man stutters, eyes glancing frantically between the two of you while trying to figure out who scares him the most. "I—uh, don't know. My roommate. Apparently. Natasha's boyf—ex?"

The playful tone dims into stern faces and clenched jaws as the villain of the evening is mentioned out loud. You're caught up deciphering the sudden switch in attitude for longer than you should have before solving the riddle. Natasha told you nothing happened, but unfortunately you have vague pictures of a man, her man, shoving his tongue into your mouth. Oh god.

You sink even further into the couch, if that's possible, shielding yourself from the undoubtably judgemental gazes shared in the room. Natasha's boyfriend cheated with you and you didn't even say anything.

"Don't hide from us, sweetheart," Steve says, brushing hair away from your face. "Hey, it's not your fault. That punk took advantage of you. You weren't in your right mind."

Your dickhead of a brother knows you too well. Can tell with just a glance when you're overthinking and analyzing and blaming yourself for problems that have nothing to do with you from the beginning.

"Calm down, birdie,” Nat says softly, earning your attention even though you want to crawl out of your skin. “That's not a conscious decision, when you're drunk like that. It wasn't your fault in the least. Fourty minutes ago you couldn't even stand straight.”

"I'm really sorry, Nat," you say, eyes flickering down to your legs draped over her lap.

"Stop it. That fucking dickhead thought it would be a good idea to tell me he wanted to have a threesome with you. I told him to stay away from you and leave, but he obviously didn't. Probably just to spite me."

"Threesome?" Steve chokes on his breath and the word comes out as more of a cough. He tightens his hold on your hand until you let out a wince, drawing a whispered ‘sorry’ from his lips.

“Me?” you breathe out, sitting up a little higher.

Peter pushes you down onto the pillow again not even a second later. He doesn’t want you to strain yourself. He’s also fucking pissed now because that man not only assaulted you, he also asked Natasha to have a threesome with you. A 19-year old.

“I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, Y/n. Not going to bring anymore of these assholes I keep dating.” Natasha sighs tiredly, letting her head fall back against the couch.

“That’s not your fault either, you know,” Bucky mutters, earning a pointed look from her that says more than her words can. A ‘thank you’ and ‘I know, dickhead’ simultaneously.

A comfortable silence spanning a dozen of seconds is shared between the five of you. It’s late and everyone is tired and what needed to be said has already been said. You’re fine after all and Natasha will be okay, if she isn’t already.

Peter shifts uncomfortably beside you, brushing against your hair and alerting you even more of his presence. He’s been so sweet to you tonight. He always has been. It guilts you now that you have taken his kindness for granted with time, but Peter cared for you the entire evening despite his teasing words.

You don’t know if it means something. Peter is good to everyone. And he has—MJ and him seem so close. They most likely spend all their time together now when they go the same college. Both geniuses. You don’t really have much to contribute except being the younger sister of America’s favorite hero and embarrassing yourself in a fairy costume on Halloween.

So you push the thought aside. Bury it deep and take in the rest of your surroundings. A quiet snort rests on your lips as you assess the brooding man who has finally seated himself down on an uncomfortable chair from the kitchen.

"Your costume is horrible, Bucky. You're not even dressed up,” you speak up, breaking the silence with a playful smile.

"Yes. I am," he mutters. "I have a mask."

"That does not count. You're wearing your normal clothes." You giggle while he rolls his eyes, earning a chuckle from you brother too. He’s glad to see you cheering up.

“What is considered a real costume then, sweets?” Bucky asks you, raising his eyebrows while pinpointing you with his ingenuine glare.

“I don’t know.” You look around, glancing over your brother’s attempt at a classic Fred, Natasha’s Dorothy, before landing on Indiana Jones. “Peter’s is good,” you mumble, heat spreading to your cheeks from nowhere. Why are you reacting this way?

“Yeah, sure lucky ‘bout that since he planned it all for you,” he mumbles under his breath. “Punk is head over heels.”

The breath escapes the two of you—you and Peter. Because Peter knows Bucky is right and you can’t believe what you just heard.

“What?” both you and Steve say simultaneously. Your brother has turned his entire body towards Peter.

You raise yourself up to a seat, glancing between Bucky and Peter. The latter’s eyes are wide open, lips parted. Guilty.

“Peter?” you ask him, so quietly he almost has to rely on the shape of your lips to hear what you said.

A clearing of his throat. Scratch on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, about that…”

Acceptance of your true power

What if I told you that everything you've ever been told was a lie, what if I told you that you have created every single thing you are experiencing, what if I told you that there is no such thing as fiction, what if I told you that you are the god of your reality, and that everything that you can ever desire exist within your you and what if I told you that your imagination is your true reality? Would you believe me? Would you accept this truth? Or would you still give outside sources the power? 

Your failure to accept the things I just said is the exact reason that you are not manifesting what you want. Your incapability of accepting your true power is the reason you do not have anything that you desire. You are giving your power away and not accepting your true godself. 

“Because of your belief in external things you think power into them by transferring the power that you are the external thing, realize you yourself are the power you have mistakenly given to outer conditions.” -Neville Goddard 

When you realize you yourself are the power source things can feel uneasy and you feel like you were in the wrong or you were saying something that is not true, but none of those things are the truth. You are the god of your reality!

Many people have struggled to accept that, I was one of them, but the way that I was able to truly accept my power is to finally surrender to my inner man. To finally surrender to my imagination and to accept myself within. When I accepted myself within I was able to truly understand that I am the all-powerful knowing creator of My reality. You can struggle to accept this if you have religious trauma or if you have been forced by society and by your family to accept that you are not the person that was in control and that you had to give power to outside sources, however what they have told you was nothing but a lie. 

Why do we fear who we are? Why do we restrict ourselves from fully accepting our power? The answer is easy: you are bound by your fear. You fear you're incapable of being free and being in control. Just like  @lotusmi said in her post Fearful Of Magnificence “we may feel incapable of freedom, of our salvation. We feel that fear and back we go into our own caves, to dwell in our caves of Desire still wishing for freedom.” You overcome the fear and these doubts and this incapability to accept your own power by surrendering to your own imagination. By learning to stop fearing yourself, to stop fearing your true power, to break free from that fear of knowing you are the god of your reality. For everything is your own wonderful creation; it was born from your own imagination.

You are the mother and your reality is the child you birthed. Neville always said "nothing to change but self",  so go within yourself and change those feelings of fear and go within your mind and finally say I am the creator, I am the one who creates, I am the god of my reality, anything I want I can have, I call the shots. Acceptance is all you need. Accept  that you are the creator! Accept that you yourself are the one who will give you whatever you desire!! Accept that you yourSELF are who creates.

If we learn to accept our power we will be able to accept that we created everything within our lives. Everything we experience truly came from our imagination from the family you have to what you are seeing on TV! Everything you have ever seen was created from your mind! We must be willing to actually accept that ourselves created everything that we experience. This can be the hardest form of acceptance but it will truly Empower you to create whatever you desire.

So go within your imagination, and finally accept you, your wonderful limitless power.

THIS WAS SOOOO AMAZINGGGGG 💖💖💖

Hi! What about possesive promot 13. “I’m going to be your husband.” with peter parker

It’s a love story, baby, just say yes

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: suggestive themes. Purely a fanfiction.

A/N: hi hun!! Thank you so much for your request and for celebrating with me! You can see the masterlist of the celebration here

“I’m sorry,” you remembered uttering those words to your best friend, Peter back when you were young. This was the first time he didn’t give you attention, the first time he withdrew his support and companionship to you. You remembered it vividly, as if it happened yesterday. You didn’t like the feeling, you didn’t like and couldn’t stand when he was mad at you. The two of you were childhood friends, your parents and his adoptive father, Tony Stark, were close friends and business partners. He had grew with you, had attended the same private schools, and same university. He had watched you grew. He had watched you bloomed right before his very eyes. He was yours, and you were his person.

You remembered how cold his eyes were when he looked at you that day, and you swore to do everything to never see those cold and empty eyes staring back at you. “I won’t play with Theo again,” your small lips were quivering, your eyes looking up at the taller kid in front of you. You reached for his little hands, bringing it to your chest, “I won’t choose to play with him over you ever again, Peter,” you swore, your tears streaming down your chubby cheeks.

Peter pouted, his resolved weakening. He could never really stomach to see you cry, at such a young age, he knew he would give you everything for you to be happy. As long as it was with him.

Peter sighed, “That’s not enough,” he pouted before turning his back on the distressed little you.

“What do you need? I promise to give it to you, just don’t be mad at me, okay?”

Peter fished the ring he had purchased with his father, Tony, who laughed when he told him he wanted to buy you a ring. Like a true Stark, he said. You know what you want and you go for it, he said.

“Here,” he took your little hand and without any preamble, inserted the ring on your fourth finger, like Tony taught him to. “If you promise to marry me when we grow up, I promise to never turn my back on you. I promise to forgive everything. I promise to be with you forever.”

You looked at the shiny ring he gave you before nodding quickly, your little curls bouncing before you hugged him. “I promise to marry you when we grow up!”

You remembered how the two of you were glued hip to hip, despite his busy schedule, despite his busy work, he and you always made time for each other. Until you met him again, Theo. Suddenly, you spent less and less time with Peter. It was out of the blue, a whirlwind romance, when all the close friends of your family were invited. The evening dinner was elegant, the light casting a warm glow on the room. No one knew what the dinner was for, and Peter was held up on his job, which caused him to be late. And just as he entered the fancy dining room, he saw you, his angel, standing on the middle, with a man he forgot about kneeling down on one knee. It was as if the world was playing a cruel trick on him, as if the time slowed down as he watched the woman he loved since he knew what love was nodded her head, agreeing to be someone else’s bride. Not his. Everyone clapped, everyone cheered, but it was all white noise to him as he met your happy eyes. He felt numb, he couldn’t feel Tony’s comforting hand resting on his back. He couldn’t accept this, he wouldn’t. And so when you stepped to his direction with a smile on your face, he stepped back, shook his head slowly, his eyes holding the dark glint that Tony knew so well, and before you could even come near him, he turned his back on you for the second time since you were young.

The news went out that your family business is merging with Theo, and the marriage would seal the deal.

But the time of your wedding came, and you waited with your wedding dress so beautifully sewn, your hair so perfectly done, but no Theo came. You were waiting on the altar, the people started whispering already. You felt embarrassed, you felt so lost. How could he do this to you? Your eyes swept over the crowd, you were shaking at this point from the pity and judging looks reflected in their eyes. You almost stepped back when suddenly, your best friend whom you haven’t seen in months stood beside you, so tall and handsome. He looked so dapper in his suit, his hair all gelled back stylishly, he looked so formal, so serious. He looked down at you before offering his muscular arm to you.

“Peter?” Your lips quivered like it did when you were young, and it brought back certain memories to him. He offered you an assuring smile.

“I won’t let you be the laughing stock of this plastic society, come on,” he whispered as he walked you to the altar.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving you.” He stated before Tony smiled at you and clapping his son’s back, kissing your cheeks as you stood nearer to the altar. You looked back at your parents who smiled and nodded at you, as if telling you to go with it.

“What’s happening?” You whispered, now more confused than sad.

“I’m going to be your husband,” he answered simply before telling the priest to start. “No one will embarrass you, princess. As long as I’m here, I will always save you,” he solemnly swore. You were so lost, so confused, so hurt as to why the man you loved didn’t show up. How could he do that to you?

You were lucky your best friend was always here to save you. What you didn’t know was this was forever for Peter, there would be no divorce. Princess, you were simply honoring the promise you made him, even if you forgot about that.

And Theo? Peter took care of him. Tony made sure that no one could trace that back to his son, his only heir. He would do everything for his only son to be happy. You were his happiness.

Reblog if you think a woman can be complete without children

Trying to prove a point to my parents

SOOOOOOOO FUCKING CUTEEEEEEE (sorry for the language lol) 💖🥰🥰💖 this fic deserves all the love!!!!!!!

How about "come here.", "don't touch me!" and "stop, it tickles" with Natasha, Wanda and best friend!reader?

A/N: eek sorry it’s taken me a week! i promise requests will be much faster now!! thank you for this request

Friday nights are the best. Movie night with the girls, your all time favourite girls; Nat and Wanda. Every Friday night that they aren’t on a mission, you all settle down in a room and watch a heap ton of movies and eat lots of junk food. No boys allowed, except maybe Clint. He just has a way of getting in. 

Tonight you’ve decided to watch a couple of your all time favourite disney movies. You’re in the kitchen with Nat, waiting for the popcorn to cook, while Wanda is grabbing all of the junk food you bought earlier. Once you’re ready to rock and roll, all three of you snuggle up and start the movies. 

Halfway through the movie Nat moves slightly closer but somehow manages to leave her hand on your ticklish stomach. She keeps moving her hand and eventually you try to squirm away from her. “Don’t touch me!” Both Wanda and Nat turn to look at you, only to see you struggling to move away from Nat. It isn’t long until they connect the dots, only to come up with a plan.

After you settle, they put their plan to go. Wanda uses her powers to use soft things to tickle your feet. You flinch away almost immediately and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the two women. Smiles start to form on their faces. As the movie goes on, you notice that every now and then something tickles you, and it’s always in different spots. You finally figure out what’s happening and jump off the lounge. 

You turn the face them, “Stop, it tickles! You don’t think I noticed what was happening? Well, I did!” they both laugh at how cute you reacted. You pout, “you guys are mean! I’ll call Clint into here.”

“Alright, alright. We will stop.” you don’t budge from your position. “Come here.” you sigh trusting them and go back to your place. 

Just as you start the next movie, Clint’s head pokes through the door, he immediately lays his eyes on the junk food before looking at you. He gives you a pleading look. You sigh, you could never say no to him. 

s/o scenarios to script ⊹ ｡ﾟ･

— sharing a playlist and sharing headphones while listening to it

— finding ways to subtly touch each other’s hands without others noticing

— them teasing you just to see your reactions

— them gg along with any date you want because they just want to be with you

— getting matching keychains and your s/o taking it with them everywhere

— a cold breeze hitting you and you starting to shiver so they give you their jacket

— them sneaking up from behind you to wrap their arms around your waist, pull you close and bury their face into the crook of your neck

— them leaning in and you thinking they want to kiss you so you close your eyes just to feel them brush your hair out of your face and whisper something romantic in your ear

— fixing their hair and them looking down at you with a soft smile playing on their lips, eyes silently adoring you

— them having a habit of asking for more kisses and pulling you closer after parting because they need more of you

— them helping you tie your hair while you’re eating

— waking up next to them and trying to get up but they gently grab your hand and pull you back down to hug you half asleep

— waking up next to them. the sun is peeking through the window, birds are chirping outside and both of you just stay in bed and cuddle and shower each other with kisses

— cooking breakfast and them sleepily coming into the kitchen to hug you from behind

— keeping the relationship a secret from your friends and having a movie night where both of you secretly hold hands under the blankets while furiously blushing

— both of you being out and it suddenly begins to rain so you both run for shelter and by the time you finally get to a small shelter, you’re both soaked so you both just laugh as you gently wipe the water from their face

— driving up to a view spot and slow dancing under the stars as love songs play on the car’s radio

— snowball fights where you run up to them, kiss them, before hitting them in the back with a snowball and running away giggling

— the classic you having something in your lips and them kissing it off

— them picking you up and spinning you around

— coat hugs where they put the hood of your coat up and give you a really warm hug

— them putting their scarf around your neck while it’s snowing and it smells like them

— leaving a kiss mark on their cheek and them refusing to wipe it off

— making christmas cookies together which turns into a food fight — you guys get flour everywhere, your faces are smudged with batter and the fight is finally ended when they hug you from behind, burying their face in you neck and picking you up slightly

— them tucking your hair behind your ear and looking at you with pure adoration

— holding hands and them doing the thumb rub thing

— dancing in the rain

— carving your initials into a tree

— underwater kisses

— building a blanket fort tgt and spending the whole night in there cuddling and talking

— brushing your teeth together and locking eyes in the mirror

— complaining about something but they can’t stop staring at your lips and kiss you mid rant

— sneaking out to get slushies at the convenience store at 3am with them and both of you coming back with a purple tongue

— holding each other’s hands in a crowded place so you don’t lose each other

— going to a party and everyone’s going crazy with the party poppers so you both are left picking confetti out of each other’s hairs

— holding hands, walking along the calm, lapping shore as the sun is setting, showcasing the most magnificent views of pink, yellow, and orange hues

— them sweating from doing something strenuous and you giving them a kiss as u gently pat away their sweat with a towel

— them helping you put on a necklace (and kissing your neck afterwards)

— new years kiss under the fireworks

— always finding a way to match your outfits even the tiniest bit

— them kissing your knuckles

— getting super excited after winning a game and hugging and kissing them on the cheek

— them playing with your hair and using it as a brush to tickle your cheeks

— talking about your futures together and both of you getting that fuzzy feeling

— them carrying you bridal style and both of you just gazing into each other’s eyes

— watching a movie and them getting bored so they start nuzzling into your neck and leaving a trail of small kisses on your cheek and neck

— every single one of their lock screens on their phone being you

— laughing so hard over something so stupid it becomes an inside joke between the two of you

— seeing each other after being separated for a while and running into each others arms and there’s a long hug that just goes on that’s so relieving for the both of you

— your s/o being in charge of taking pictures of the whole friendgroup during a trip and when everyone checks back on the pictures all they see are pictures of you. safe to say they were never put on photography duty again

— both of you being included in each other’s family events and milestones

— midnight walks together through the snow in winter where everything is coated in a beautiful layer of fresh white snow and everything is so tranquil and magical

— them pulling your beanie over your eyes before placing a small peck on your lips and playfully smiling at you

— them burying their face in your shoulder and pulling you into a soft and tight hug, making both of you fall onto the bed together. they then pull their face back such that your faces are inches away, eyes locked. their eyes flutter to your lips before tenderly kissing them and whispering “i want to drown in you. all of you”

— waking up next to them and admiring their sleeping face under the morning sunlight

— your hands being cold so you place your hands up their shirt on their stomach

— standing on your tippy toes to reach their lips

— them wrapping their arms around your waist to pull you deeper into a kiss

— them playing with your hair while you lay on their chest, their fingers gently raking through the soft strands of your hair, all while you talk softly about anything and everything

— waking up to them cuddling you

— hanging around at a basketball court together and them going “if i make this ill kiss you. if i don’t i’ll kiss you anyway”

— making snow angels under the stars together

— gg to a photo booth tgt and taking the cutest pics

— absolutely everyone commenting on how much love fills their eyes when they look at you

— watching the sunset and giving each other small kisses in between

— tracing their features as they gaze at you with pure love and adoration

— walking together as cherry blossoms begin to fall all around you

— exploring the forest together and them putting out their hand for you to gently take it and guide you along the trees

— spaghetti kisses (like in lady and the tramp)

— you smoothing out their messy hair

— having this thing going on between the both of you where you give each other love letters in the most creative ways and each time it gets crazier and crazier

— baking cookies and them randomly deciding to visit your house and they come up from behind you to wrap their arms around your waist and kiss you on the cheek. so you spin around and smudge a little batter on their nose and they just laugh

— palm kisses

— them coming up from behind you and resting their head on top of yours

— them holding your hair while you eat something on a windy day

— when you were younger you made a list of romantic things you wanted to experience and your s/o ends up finding that list and attempts to complete it

— going to a sports game and both of you show up on the kiss cam

— you driving and your s/o is in the car next to you at a red light so they signal you to roll down the window. when you do, they start blasting “kiss me” (or any other love song of your choice) on their radio and singing their heart out to you

— them smiling into your kiss

— doing their makeup and they can’t keep their eyes off you

— them drawing your initials on their notebook

— going sledding tgt and them falling over in the snow so you wipe off snow from their hair and face while laughing uncontrollably and they’re also laughing as their eyes are glued to your face

— kissing them and accidentally getting lipstick on their lips so you try to wipe it off and they just smile, grab your hand, and lean in for another kiss

— going to the beach at night and staring up at the moon while having deep talks

— kisses on the tip of the nose

— sharing an umbrella with them and they tilt it towards you

— pressing your foreheads against each other’s and scrunching your noses

— tracing shapes on their back as they doze off

— your shoelace being untied so they bend down to tie it

— making matching bracelets out of our eye colours

— writing your names on a padlock, locking it on a bridge and throwing away the key

— pulling them in for a kiss by the tie

— subtle touches

— them deboning your chicken for you (or taking the shells off the prawn etc.)

— burning all their favourite songs onto a cd and painting it to give them as a gift

— them putting their hand in the back pocket of your jeans

— getting mad at them and them doing the absolute most to make it up to you

— you saying something they think is so adorable they smile and look away

— them being all smiley every time you’re brought up

— falling asleep on their shoulder in the car and them trying to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible

— kissing under the mistletoe

— them lying on your lap during a board game with your friendgroup

— putting on a face mask for them and they cannot keep their eyes off you

— clinging onto them because you don’t want them to leave and they are loving every second of it

— collarbone kisses

— sharing milkshakes together and both of you going going to take a sip at the same time and locking eyes

— stealing something from them and them chasing you around trying to catch you. when they finally do, they wrap their arms around your waist, making you squeal and giggle. as you turn around, they kiss you and gently take back their belonging from your hand

— it’s snowing outside and you both cuddle up in front of the fire place with hot chocolate and watch the grinch

— them not being able to sleep and throwing things at your window to wake you up just to go sit with them under the stars

— board walks while holding hands

— going to a haunted house with your fg and the both of you give each other a quick kiss when you guys get to a really dark room

— making snowmen together and you’re both having so much fun bundled up in your winter coats

— them having you take the first bite of their food and blowing on it because it’s hot

— kissing their dimples

— soft launching your relationship

— helping them tie their tie

— them giving you one of their rings

— you not wanting to get in the pool so they pick you up and jump into the water with you

— sneaking out with them at night to go by the beach and swim

— watching the fireworks with them and they admire how breathtaking you look under the colourful glow of the lights

— them showing up at your door one night randomly bc they js “wanted to see you”

— you two getting ice cream and you asking them if they wanted to try some of yours and they say yes and ask if you want some of theirs and you also say yes so they kiss you

I'm sorry but i'm so sick of shit like this. I don't know you Patricia and with that attitude i don't care to get to know you.

Why has Marvel suddenly become the poster child for everything wrong in this world? For the 100th time no, Marvel movies are not all the same and they're not ''souless''. Anyone saying this, obviously hasn't even tried to watch a Marvel movie. Ever thought that maybe these characters/stories resonate with people? Cause let me tell you, i've felt more emotions from a Marvel movie than i have from some ''high art'' bullshit.

And the AI shit, really? Lesser people have tried and failed to copy the MCU bc they lacked the heart and soul it took for the MCU to be built in the first place, and u think that an AI could write a Marvel movie and have it be good????? Be serious, even the worst Marvel movie would be better than the best an AI can "come up with". Also, implying that the work put into Marvel projects is as shit as the "work" of an AI, is insulting to the countless of talented artists who have been working their asses off in every single project. Instead of doing shit like this, ever thought that you should use your platform for sth good? Like idk, talking about the REAL issues AI is causing to art? Don't you, as an artist, understand that AI is a threat to everyone? To art itself?

But i guess you've all learned the trick by now. Want attention = start talking shit about the MCU. At least be more creative, this technique has gotten old

I'm bored, Patricia 🥱🥱